


That One Boy

by Bel_vio



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist!Steve, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, writer!Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bel_vio/pseuds/Bel_vio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky needs an illustrator. Natasha finds him one.</p><p>Maybe it's not that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That One Boy

 

“Come on, James. How can you decide if you want it or not if you haven’t even seen his work?” Natasha asks him and he rolls his eyes, jumping over a puddle and putting his hands on his pockets again.

“But I’ve _seen_ his work – at least the one that matters.” Bucky shrugs and it’s Natasha’s turn to roll her eyes. “Why do I need to see his gallery, anyway? I need an illustrator,” he looks up at the gallery’s plaque name “not a painter.”

“Artist.” She corrects.

“Whatever.”

“James, look at me.” He does. “You said you needed someone to draw for your new book; I’ve found you someone,” she motions for the gallery to make her point “now stop acting like a five year old and come see his work, Sharon says he’s really good.”

“How does she even _know_ this artist?” he asks with his brows raised.

“Her cousin Peggy works here. She’s good friends with him, apparently.” She shrugs and moves to open the door.

“Well, this is fancy.” Bucky notes as they enter the building “Do you even know who he is?”

“I didn’t get his name, actually.”

Bucky looks around with his mouth open as he sees the paintings. Natasha grins at him and takes his arm, “Good, isn’t he?” he nods.

“They’re amazing.” He concedes as they stop in front of a painting. “Are they all his?”

“Yes. Sharon told me that Peggy said they never put works from anyone else in the gallery, just his. That’s how he sells them.” She explains and motions with her chin towards a girl behind a desk.

 Bucky turns back to the painting and reads the name under it, he might as well find out this _artist_ ’s name. In a small plaque he reads _‘New York’ by Steve Rogers_ and he stops breathing. He knows that name.

Looking at Natasha and back at the painting, Bucky reads the name of the artist again. He takes his hands out of his pockets and moves to the next painting, and the next one, and the next one, reading the name in all of them. Natasha follows him. “What’s wrong?” she asks as she sees his face.

“The artist.” It’s all he says.

“What about him?”

“I know him.” Bucky answers as he moves to the next painting. He must be insane.

He stops suddenly as he turns around the corner and Natasha almost runs into him. “James?”

Bucky doesn’t answer her and starts walking again. He feels her eyes on him but just keeps walking, finally stopping in front of a particular painting, a drawing he once saw in a corner booth at a diner that maybe is not even open anymore.

They both stare at the painting. It’s probably the biggest one in the whole gallery, and the only one that’s alone in a wall. Bucky glances at the name under it: _‘That One Boy’ by Steve Rogers_. Next to it there’s a sign, and he reads it out loud ‘Not for Sale’.

“Bucky.” She whispers as he keeps looking at the painting with wide eyes. It’s making him want to cry a little.

There’s a boy in the center of the canvas, the booth he’s sitting on and a little bit of a table with a pink milkshake on it. The boy is sitting, looking down at his drink with the straw on his mouth, his hand is holding the straw as he drinks, the elbow on the table, and the other arm is just resting around the drink. The background is a pale blue but it doesn’t take all the canvas, making it look like someone took it out of a dream.

It’s beautiful.

“Thirteen years ago,” he starts, not taking his eyes of the painting. “I had this boyfriend; we- we dated for the last two years of high school and beginning of college.” Natasha looks confused at him, not knowing where he’s going with this.

“It was at the end of the summer, three weeks before we started college. I was going to NYU and he was going to an art school far away. He was leaving in the next day and we just had one more afternoon together so we decided to go to the diner we’d always gone to, it was where we had met.”

He frowns, only realizing now that he remembers everything, every detail about that day.

 

_Bucky nods towards the booth in the corner and Steve sits with his back to the wall. Bucky sits in front of him after waving at the girl behind the counter and she nods, smiling. They’ve been going there together since they had met, four years ago. It’s their place and no one from school frequents this diner. The girls that work here all know their orders by heart now and they are all very nice to them. They like it._

_The girl puts the milkshakes on the table – strawberry for Bucky and chocolate for Steve – and they sit there in silence. Sometimes they sit there and talk all afternoon, about anything and everything, other times – like today – they sit there and don’t say a word, just enjoy each other’s company. Eventually Steve takes his sketchbook out, like he always does, and starts drawing._

_They stay there for hours, and then, as they’re leaving, Steve finally shows him one of the sketches. It was Bucky, but it wasn’t like any other sketch he had made of him, it was somehow different. Bucky grins at him, “Wow Stevie, that one is really something.”_

_“Thanks Buck.” Steve blushes, like he always does, really._

_“I’m serious, Steve.” He steps in front of Steve and starts walking backwards “Paint it on a canvas and one day, when you’re very famous and have a gallery of your own with just your paintings and no one else’s, you’ll try to sell the painting several times but you’ll never bring yourself to do it” Steve guides him to the side as he almost hits a light pole, but Bucky continues excitedly “and you’ll come home every day and tell me ‘_ I got another offer for the painting but I couldn’t sell it _’ and then you’ll end up putting a sign under it saying ‘_ not for sale _’.” He grins again, returning to his former position next to Steve and when he looks at Steve, he has a lop-sided smile on his face as he looks down._

_“That’s quite a story.” He jokes looking up again and Bucky hits him on the arm._

_“I mean it.”_

_“I know.” Steve says and holds his hand, squeezing._

 

Bucky and Natasha leave the gallery minutes after.

 

*~*~*

After that, Bucky goes back to the gallery almost every day, but he never stops until he’s in front of the painting.

One day, two weeks after he had gone there with Natasha, he feels someone standing next to him, but he doesn’t turn to look at them. There are always people admiring this painting.

“You were right, you know?” The voice startles Bucky and he finally looks at the person next to him.

Bucky’s eyes widen a little bit and he looks up at Steve, with his mouth open. Steve is looking at the painting.

“I could never bring myself to sell it.” He looks then at Bucky and gives him a small smile.

“You painted it.” Is all Bucky can manage.

“I did.” Steve confirms but doesn’t elaborate.

Bucky can’t take his eyes of him. He looks different, not so much that Bucky wouldn’t recognize him, but still different.

 

*~*~*

Steve agrees to draw for Bucky's book when they meet the following Saturday at a coffee shop close to the gallery they apparently both frequent but somehow never crossed paths before. Bucky tells Steve that he ended up becoming a writer and Steve tells him that he already knew because he had read some of his books. In return he tells Bucky what had been up to after college.

“I went back to Brooklyn.” Steve tells him “I opened a small gallery there, on the first year, but it didn’t go far. Ended up moving to Manhattan and started to illustrate books for kids. Met Peggy and she helped me opening the gallery and it just got bigger. But I still illustrate for books, when I have the time.”

“Your paintings are really good, Steve. But I- I always knew they were.”

Steve blushes.

“When did you paint it, though? And, you know, why?”

“I found the sketch on my last year of college and I decided to paint it to present for my last project. But I- I couldn’t. It was too personal. I painted another and presented that one.”

They fall in silence, but they don’t mind. It’s comfortable.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asks suddenly.

“Sure.” Bucky sips his coffee and an image of two boys drinking their milkshakes, a long time ago, crosses his mind.

“What brought you to the gallery?”

Bucky shrugs. “I didn’t know it was yours until I saw your name under one of your works and then noticed they were all yours.” Steve nods in understanding “I’m writing a book for kids. A series, actually, and I need an illustrator.” He explains. “So I told Natasha, and she said Sharon – who's Peggy’s cousin, apparently – told her about this artist that was an illustrator too. And Natasha dragged me to the gallery to see some of your works. Even though I had already seen some of the books you had drawn for.”

“I’m glad you went there, though.” Steve looks at him smiling and he can’t help but smile too.

“Me too.”

 

*~*~*

And they meet again a few days later.

And then again,

And again.

 

 

**The End**

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you like it!! :) :)  
> Please give me some feedback
> 
> It's actually the first fic I finish and even though it's very short, I’m kinda proud of myself.
> 
> I’m on tumblr: michaelsbackpocket


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